Begin Again
by SarahSwifty13
Summary: She's starting over in a new city. New people, new chances. Ally Dawson can't be more excited to reinvent her life, that is, until someone she meets shows her she didn't really need to find herself at all.


_Disclaimer: I do not own Austin & Ally_

**Chapter One – Welcome to New York**

**_It's a new soundtrack; I could dance to this beat, forevermore. – Welcome to New York, Taylor Swift_**

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><p>Her <em>Miami Cloud-Watchers<em> membership card spilled out from her bag onto her feet when she dropped her knapsack and carriers onto the cool marble floor.

_Ally Dawson, Vice President_

_Member since 2011_

The faded azure laminated card prompted her to lift her gaze to the shuttered windows in her new apartment. She picked up the card she remembered so proudly receiving only four years back and walked towards the living room's windows, kicking off her floral-printed flats to get her feet accustomed to the cold stone.

She wished her floor was that cooling back in Miami. She would have been much more comfortable lying prostrate for hours after Gavin abruptly ended their one year relationship, but the heat from the carpeted ground was unforgiving, especially in the peak of Miami summer, though the thickness of the material did help to muffle her sobs, and, soak up her tears.

Another thing – crying into carpets makes it even harder to breathe. Also, Ally had been positive her sweat had contributed to the dampness beneath her face. Forced to supply oxygen to her lungs, she propped herself up and tried to calm the emotional havoc within her.

All she could remember thinking as she reached for her box of tissues on the bedside table was why in the world her dad ever consented to a carpeted bedroom. And they were living near the damn beach, where people _suntan_ for crying out loud.

When Lester Dawson cautiously probed his daughter about her puffy red eyes at dinner that day, and her lack of appetite, all she could manage was "Why is my bedroom carpeted?"

To which, a puzzled father replied, "Because you threw a fit about having a furry floor when Trish got a pet dog and mom forbid you to have one."

Oh right. Five year old Ally thought petting the floor was a great substitute for a living, breathing, tail-wagging creature that her mother was supposedly allergic to.

Looking at it now, that was probably a lie, since her mother flew away to the rainforests of South America that very same year for her job with gorillas and the great apes. So what if their fur wasn't exactly the same as canines'?

"Technically, I wouldn't call it fur…"

"IT ALMOST SUFFOCATED ME," She could not control her raised volume, and felt a tinge of guilt blooming in her chest as she slammed her fork next to her still-full plate and stormed up the stairs, leaving her stunned father alone at the dinner table.

When she spoke with Trish later on the phone, her best friend told her she was in denial, the first stage of grief, where one 'tries to avoid the pain and redirect the budding rage at even the most trivial things ever', quote unquote.

After a long, hot shower and Trish's assurance that he will end up writing some country hit regretting he let her go, Ally felt like she could manage something to eat, or maybe it was just her hunger pangs that forced her to the kitchen.

Her dad was at same spot where she last saw him, only papers covered the table top instead of cutlery and plates, and he looked several years older under the dimmed kitchen lights, forehead creased, eyebrows furrowed.

He noticed her standing in the doorway and glanced up to inform her to heat her unfinished dinner in the microwave, before returning to punch digits into the calculator.

After eating quietly for ten minutes, Ally could not bear the exhausted sighs coming from in front of her any longer.

"What's going on, Dad?" She finally asked when she noticed the letters were about Sonic Boom's finances.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, "We – I – can't do this anymore, Ally. Sonic Boom hasn't exactly been doing so well since that new music store opened up across the street and the mall decided to raise rental rates." He wiped a hand down his face, seemingly in resignation.

"The supplier has also been demanding more upfront, no installments."

"But surely we can –"

"We can't, Ally-gator. We haven't been making enough to even breakeven. If I don't pull out now, the debts will only pile up."

"So that's it? You're giving up the store?" She tried really hard to suppress the oncoming waterworks, anger nestling in place instead at her father's easy surrender. It was as if he wasn't even trying. Did Sonic Boom mean nothing more to him than another business venture?

"Mrs. Krum gave us a very good deal,"

"So she's taking over Sonic Boom now?" A flicker of hope flared within her. Sonic Boom was practically her second home. Maybe she could still work there if –

"She's demolishing it to turn it into a box store, honey."

There goes that flame.

A box store. What the crap. This is a joke, right?

"I'm sorry, Ally-gator." Her father reached for her hand, sounding and looking truly apologetic. She hadn't realized she said that out loud.

She simply shook her head and slumped back in her chair, her coffee curls whipping around as her head-shaking became more vigorous.

"Ally…"

She felt the first prick of tears again and dashed for her room before her dad had a chance to apologize again.

The New York sun burst through the slits of the white shutters, and Ally pulled them up, allowing the momentary glare to brighten the room.

Good thing she was on the 22nd floor – the skyscrapers towering around the bustling city made fewer clouds visible from the cab that brought her from the airport. Up here though, the sky was much, much clearer, and more expanse. Like her mind.

Trish had told her a change of scenery was what she needed. 'A short break' was her exact words. And in the decade that they had been friends, Trish was more oftentimes right. So Ally listened and they caught the first flight out to New York, just because they both thought it would be a fun getaway, and also because Trish's new boyfriend, Jace, was visiting a relative in New York that weekend too.

And though none of them said it aloud, they both knew it was a chance for Ally to try for the Music University of New York again, an opportunity she gave up earlier due to financial issues.

But the moment they stepped into the city and breathed in its welcoming energy and air of endless possibilities, Ally knew she was going to be here for more than a weekend. It was as if a new page in her songwriting book had been turned, or rather, an entirely new chapter.

Everything was vibrant and beautiful and… Alive.

She felt liberated as they explored the bright city, like the weight of the world was magically lifted off her shoulders and all worries were tossed into the wind, just like her curls fanning behind her as Trish drove them through the heart of town.

The sounds of the city were different from what she was used to for the past nineteen years of her life. She was going to miss the sound of the lapping waves - which she knew. But Ally felt the pulse of the city, even in the solitude of the apartment Trish had picked out with her after that refreshing weekend.

It was invigorating and inviting.

It was new. It was exciting.

When Ally shut the apartment door behind her, and turned on the radio sitting on the countertop separating her kitchen and the living room, her worries about living alone for the first time, thoughts about how her ex was doing, finding a new job, Sonic Boom, were all erased from her mind.

Even worries about leaving her dad to fend for himself were shoved to the back of her less-cluttered mind. She made certain she had updated the list of deliveries on the memo pad stuck to the refrigerator and the day before she left, stocked up their kitchen with instant meals, even going out of the way to print a list of beginner recipes and purchasing all the groceries necessary to make them. Her Dad had remarked it was as if they were preparing for a food shortage what with the mountains of food she brought home that day.

She walked back to the window and pushed them open as far as they could go, welcoming the medley of sounds into her new home. She took it all in. She scanned the sidewalks, the buildings opposite, the park in the distance, the boutiques, and the tunnels to the subways, the endless sky.

Be it the sun, the moon, the stars, or the string of lights glowing everywhere she turned, the lights were bright here, in New York. It was radiating, even from the hopeful faces of the crowds.

She could see it. Everybody here wanted something more, searching for a sound they hadn't heard before.

She could feel it, and not just in the bounce of her steps.

Everybody here was someone else before.

She pulled her hair up in a bun and began unpacking.

The lights were so bright but they never once blinded her.

Deep inside her, a small part was scared at what awaited her, but her fears were calmed with this inexplicable exuberance.

And she loved it.

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><p><strong>AN: Yes, if it isn't obvious, this story is inspired by 1989, Taylor's new, glorious album. Also, I have not visited any of the locations this story takes place in/ mentions, so forgive me if the details are wrong, I wrote this on impulse in one sitting without researching beforehand. This chapter is kinda short, I know, but it's supposed to be like, a preface of sorts. Hope you enjoyed it! I honestly have not written fanfics in more than a year? So yes kinda rusty and still trying to improve... Constructive criticism welcomed – hit that review button if you feel like it? (:**


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